


Silhouette

by lietpol



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bad Things Happen To Carlos, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evie & Carlos de Vil Friendship, Freaked Out Carlos, Insanity, Jay is a good boyfriend, M/M, Minor Ben/Mal (Disney: Descendants), Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Carlos, POV Jay (Disney), Panic Attacks, Protective Jay (Disney), This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, he need some milk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-24 13:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12014127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lietpol/pseuds/lietpol
Summary: Jay always liked to joke about Carlos going insane.ORThe fic where Carlos is being tormented by a shadow of his mother. Chaos ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Syd since the fic was her brain baby, go follow her @antijaylos. No beta im sorry please talk to me on tumblr im lonely @jayandcarlos
> 
> I already have a few chapters of this written out so hopefully u guys enjoy it and I'm gonna attempt to post every week but maybe don't hold me to that and definitely leave comments I need them

It begins so subtly. If he tries hard enough, he can ignore it. But he _can’t_.

It’s a shiver along his spine, a stray hair tickling his neck. A _feeling_ that someone is there, when they aren’t. Carlos knows it well. That _feeling_ becomes all he knows, and it wraps around him and engulfs him in anxiety. Like his own personal casket, forged from his nerves. It’s only a matter of time before the storm cloud hovering above him releases its heavy baggage, and he knows it.

_She_ knows it.

She is everywhere, watching, listening, _waiting-_

“Carlos,” Jay says.

A hand lands square in the center of his chest and snaps Carlos’s attention back to his surroundings. He’s in the dining hall, a tray of colorful foods waits in front of him. Jay is next to him, his hand lingering on Carlos’s chest. He shivers and shakes his head. Evie cuts her eyes towards him and raises one shaped eyebrow.

“Dude, are you okay? You’ve been out of it since, like, the coronation. It’s been a few months.” Jay’s voice is dripping with concern and Carlos hates it. He hates the feeling of people worrying about him. He doesn’t deserve it, because he isn’t good enough for that yet.

“You’ve got designer bags” Evie says. “We could get Mal to whip you up a sleeping potion, under the table, of course.”

“No,” Carlos says. “I’m fine, just a bit stressed about some of my tests.”

“Oh, I totally understand,” Mal finally joins the conversation. “That chem exam is _haunting_ me.”

Carlos wants to laugh. He really does.

“I can help you study. Oh, we could all study together!” Evie sounds far too excited for a study circle, but Carlos figures it can’t hurt to amuse her.

“Sounds good,” Jay says. His arm is draped around Carlos’s shoulders. Usually, Carlos loves that. But right now, he feels weighed down, literally. It’s suffocating, but he doesn’t want to hurt Jay’s feelings.

Carlos scratches the back of his head and closes his eyes. Sleep is always so tempting, but he can’t. Ever since Maleficent almost burned down the whole castle, Carlos has felt ill. He can’t sleep, can’t eat, and can’t _escape._

“I think I’m going to go take a quick nap at the dorms. I’m beat,” Carlos says. He stands up and grips the table like it’s an anchor in his ocean of dizziness. He doesn’t want his friends to notice anything, so he takes a deep breath and centers himself. He smiles and grabs his tray, almost escaping them.

“I’ll come with you!” Jay is behind him, tray in hand. “I’m also tired, tourney wears a guy out.”

Carlos smiles and sets his tray on the designated counter. He watches silently as Jay does the same, and lets out a gasp when Jay’s fingers intertwine with his. Jay kisses him on the cheek and Carlos wants to lean into him and sleep for a million years. It’s all he wants right now. He lets Jay pull him to their shared room and he sinks onto the bed with him.

“Wait,” Carlos sits up. “I need to use the restroom.”

“Don’t take too long, I’ll get lonely.” Jay twists his mouth into a sulky frown and Carlos laughs, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

He closes and locks the door behind him. The bathroom is covered in used towels and dirty clothing. Carlos steps through them until he’s leaning on the counter for support. He takes a quick look at himself in the mirror and sighs.

“You look like shit,” he says to himself. Evie is right. His under-eye bags are huge, surprisingly so. It makes his freckles stand out against his complexion even more than they already do. He runs a tired hand over his face and pulls the bottle out of his pocket. The little yellow capsules fall into his hand and he pops two of them into his mouth, following them with a glass of water.

The caffeine pills assure him that he only gets a thirty-minute nap. If he sleeps longer, _she_ will come for him. He slips the bottle into the little compartment under the counter and returns to the bed. Jay pats the empty space next to him and Carlos flops down, utterly drained.

“Which one of us should set an alarm?” Jay asks as he slides an arm around Carlos.

“I’ll do it, because you probably won’t check to make sure it’s set for the right part of the day,” Carlos teases. He pulls his phone out and sets five different alarms. They’re heavy sleepers.

“See you in a few hours,” he mutters sleepily, already burying his face into the warm crook of Jay’s neck. He hears a muffled noise and that’s it for his consciousness.

 

_Carlos opens his eyes. The smell gets to him first. He’s so used to it now. The thick mustiness of the wet ground he stands on overwhelms his senses and he looks around. He knows she is here. But he doesn’t know when she will strike._

“So, you’ve shown up, _” she says, voice like ice._ “You can’t escape me, after all. I’m your creator.” _She says the words with such ferocity that Carlos can’t contain the shiver that wracks his body. Creator, he thinks. As if she compiled every aspect of Carlos and knew everything that would happen in his life. He turns around. He’s staring directly into her dark, dangerous eyes._

“Boo,” _she says. Carlos jumps back and trips on himself. He flings his hands out in front of him to buff his fall. Every muscle in his body is urging him to run, but he can’t. The ground opens around him as he begins sinking into the earth._

“No!” _He shouts. His screams tear at his throat and he’s sobbing, but it just won’t end. It will never end._

“You know what you need to do, Carlos. It’ll all be over, then.”

 

Carlos jumps up so quickly that Jay doesn’t even stir in his sleep. He barely makes it to the bathroom in time to empty the little amount of food he has in his stomach. His hands are shaking and he’s fucking _freezing_.

“I’m dying,” he moans but quickly shuts up because, yeah, he _might_ actually be dying. He’s too scared to go get actual help, because he knows it isn’t real. The stress is just getting to him. Carlos can _handle_ stress.

He pulls himself up with help from the counter and wipes at his mouth. So much for the pills, he thinks. Something he doesn’t understand is _how_ that happened when he only slept for a moment. Usually, she only comes for him when he’s _out_.

But it’s like she’s getting stronger. It makes him nervous. If he was on edge before, he’s falling now.

He stares at his weak reflection. “You won’t get to me, Cruella. You’re on the isle. You _can’t,”_ he says with a certainty that he tries to make himself believe.

The rest of the day passes with the pace of a snail. He almost passes out completely in all of his classes, and for the first time, he is given detention. Carlos doesn’t care. Detention at Auradon is bullshit. He has no appetite for dinner, but he forces down the soup anyway. When he finally gets back to his room, all he wants to do is go back to bed. He works on his essays with Jay for an hour, plays with Dude, actually cleans the bathroom. Anything to distract himself and keep busy. Every move is shaky and he knows he needs a good night of sleep but he’s _scared._ He doesn’t want to see his mother when he closes his eyes next to Jay.

When midnight rolls around, Jay insists that they sleep. Carlos wants to refuse, but he can see how tired Jay is and that face is something he _cannot_ say no to. So, he caves, sliding in next to his boyfriend and cuddling up to him. Jay makes him feel small and protected, something Carlos desperately needs but won’t admit. He’s thinking of ways to remain awake when it finally hits him. Sleep washes over him so forcefully that he doesn’t have a chance to fight it. He lets himself sink into the blackness, praying for a dreamless sleep.

His prayers are answered. Carlos rolls around in the bed, his arms reaching for the body that should be next to him, but isn’t. He makes a pathetic noise and opens his eyes.

Carlos reels back too quickly, his head impacting against the headboard of the bed with a resounding pop. He wants to scream but he holds it in, because _she cannot be near Jay_.

“Cruella,” he whispers. She’s towering over him, her hawk like eyes digging into him. She looks exactly the same as she had when they left the isle. Her hair is spread in crazy twists and her clothes are ironed and as perfect as possible.

“Mm… Miss me, Carlos? I certainly missed you,” her words hang in the air, like a net he can’t detangle himself from.

“Not particularly,” he manages to say. “You _can’t_ be here.”

“Oh, but I am!” She laughs, sending a shiver through his body. Her laugh always unsettles him.

The door to the bathroom opens, and Carlos jumps up. He runs to the door and shoves Jay inside, shutting it behind them. He’s confused and scared and too young for this, but he _has_ to protect Jay.

“Carlos, what- “

Carlos slaps a hand across Jay’s mouth and shakes his head furiously. The silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity. Carlos cracks open the door, peering into their room.

It’s empty. There’s no sign that his mother was ever here.

“Carlos, you’re shaking like a leaf. What the hell just happened?”

Carlos sighs and rests his forehead against the wooden door for a second. “It was nothing, just a bad nightmare,” he lies. Hopefully. He can’t think clearly right now, and his heart is pounding so intensely that he can feel it in his stomach.

“Jesus, it must’ve been horrible. You’re sweating through your clothes,” Jay says. Carlos looks down and realizes that his shirt is completely flat against his torso. He grimaces and peels it off of himself.

“I think, um, I’m going to take a shower” he says weakly.

Jay nods and kisses his sweat-slick forehead. “Be careful, C. I’m really starting to worry about you.”

“Please don’t,” Carlos murmurs softly.

Carlos is left alone with his thoughts. He turns the shower on and lets the icy water run over his hands. He shimmies out of the rest of his clothing and steps in, biting his lip to stop the gasp escaping from him. The freezing water energizes him. He’s running on empty, but his heart is pumping hard and his adrenaline is spiking. His head drops and he stands in silence, watching the water run into the drain. Although he’s probably imagining things, Carlos swears he can see dirt swirling around the drain.

 

“I’m worried about Carlos,” Jay says.

Evie nods vigorously. “Me too. He looks like a ghost.”

“Really? He seems fine to me. If not, super jumpy,” Mal says.

They’re lounging on the grass during the break they share between 4th and 5th period. Mal and Evie are stretched out, their skin bared to the sun’s rays. Jay is sitting cross-legged with Dude in his lap. He knows something isn’t right when the dog comes to sit with _him._

“No, I’m serious. Something is really up with him,” Jay glares at Mal. She’s been completely nonchalant about everything since they were assimilated into Auradon’s culture. Sure, she’s had issues coming to terms with herself, but she’s gotten over them well. Carlos, on the other hand…

Jay doesn’t know. But he wants to find out. He hates seeing his boyfriend so distressed and panicked all the time.

“Talk to him about it,” Mal suggests.

“I’ve tried. You know how Carlos is. He won’t let anyone take on his problems with him.”

“We could call an intervention…” Evie whispers. “But he would probably hate us.”

Jay shakes his head. “He wouldn’t hate us. He’d probably ignore us for a few days, but he wouldn’t hate us.”

“Let’s do that,” Mal says. “If we can’t help him, an adult surely can.”

Something in Jay tells him that they shouldn’t. Not _yet,_ anyway. “I’m going to try talking to him again. Give him a chance to actually open up, you know?”

Jay hates that he feels so helpless. He’s not new to the whole romance thing, but he knows that partners need to support each other. All he wants is to be enough for Carlos. And—Jay knows. He knows Carlos loves him, but sometimes his insecurities get the best of him. He’s always wondering if Carlos really wants to maintain their relationship. Those thoughts leave him feeling guilty, because Carlos is clearly struggling and Jay _knows_ it isn’t because of their relationship. He just feels as though there’s nothing that he can do to help, and it makes him livid.

Dude hops out of his lap, and Jay takes the opportunity to depart from his friends. He has no idea where he’s heading, but he doesn’t mind. He just needs a moment to think.

When he stops walking, Jay runs his hand through his hair. He’s at the tourney field. The bleachers are deserted, so Jay climbs up to the top and spreads out in the corner. His leg is dangling off of the edge of the metal and he closes his eyes. He feels at peace, physically, but his brain is miles away.

He recounts every moment he can of their time in Auradon, trying to pinpoint where Carlos’s behavior started. There’s no particular moment he can tackle. Carlos has always been a fidgety, withdrawn person. Jay moves on. He starts looking for reasons. Carlos overcame his fear of playing tourney, and his anxiety of not fitting in. He found friends outside of their little group. None of it makes any sense to Jay. He sits up and sighs. The bleachers are not where he needs to be. His instinct pulls him away from the field and towards the museum. He’s climbing the stairs to the second floor before he even realizes it. The gold-trimmed sign points him towards the “Hall of Villains.”

“Gods, what am I doing here?” he asks to nobody.

He takes hesitant steps forward, placing his hands on the metal bars that surround the exhibit. The silence is so thick, he’s sure he could hear a feather hitting the ground. Clearly, the second floor isn’t all that popular any more. Jay looks over the eerily life-like figures of their parents. His father, Jafar, is in the cobra stance, his eyes widened with insanity and betrayal. Jay lowers himself to the ground slowly and rests his head on the cool surface of the bar. It feels like yesterday he was here with his friends in an attempt to steal the wand. That time, a time where Carlos was fine, was long past.

“What’s wrong with him?” Jay says into the quiet room. “Why won’t he talk to me?”

His stomach clenches uncomfortably and Jay groans. He needs food, and a nap—and Carlos.

He’s still not sure why he came here, of all places. Jay would never ask Jafar, or a statue of him, for help. But part of Jay wants advice from an adult. Because he’s scared. Carlos is _scaring_ him, and he just wants to make everything better.

Jay drags himself up, keeping his eyes on the statues of their parents. They always were so creepily realistic. If he stays here any longer, he’s sure to go crazy. So, Jay backpedals out of the display room and back down the stairs.

He’s confused about many things, but he’s completely flabbergasted by Mal’s lack of caring towards Carlos’s attitude. She of all people should understand the struggles of adjusting. Just last month, she was a nervous wreck and she constantly made it known. But, it’s like now that she knows Ben loves her completely, she’s forgotten everything else in her life. Jay doesn’t want to say anything. That’s an argument he wants _no_ part in.

It’s no surprise when Jay finds himself standing at the door of his and Carlos’s shared room. He opens it, taking a peek inside. The lights are off and the TV is playing some kind of comedy show that Jay has no interest in. His eyes travel to the beds, and he notices a lump in his. Carlos is fast asleep, curled into a tight ball under the blue comforter. Jay smiles and edges quietly into the room. He pulls his shoes off and sets them down before moving to his bed. Carlos looks so small and tired. But his face doesn’t appear to be peaceful. His eyebrows are drawn together and his mouth is set in a deep grimace. The pillow in his arms is being gripped so tightly that his knuckles are completely blanched.

One instinct says Jay should wake him, but the other is telling him to let Carlos sleep.

So he does. Jay makes sure that he is extra careful as he slips into the bed and drapes an arm around Carlos, the thought of food forgotten. It pains him to admit how much he misses this—before Carlos started freaking about everything around him. But Jay also knows that Carlos will push him away if he brings it up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lowkey graphic but other than that nah, I really love comments so pls leave some thank u

It starts off as such a normal day that it’s almost painful. Carlos is sitting in advanced chemistry. His chin is resting on his hand as the professor drones on about intermolecular bonds and their differences. He does not care. Besides, he taught himself about the bonds _ages_ ago.

Carlos feels a sense of satisfaction as he watches a classmate’s face turn red, struggling to answer a question he has no clue about. The bell rings, and Carlos jumps out of his chair as if it were biting him. He practically sprints through the hallways until he’s bursting through the heavy oak doors of the dining hall. His stomach is attempting to eat itself, so he caves in and loads his plate down with grilled vegetables and two slices of pizza. He curls himself up in a private booth, the farthest one away from the commotion of the room. It actually surprises him how quickly he scarfs down everything that he had on his plate.

“That’s what happens when your diet consists of caffeine pills and anxiety,” he muses aloud.

“What did you say?” comes a voice that Carlos can’t see the owner of.

It’s Jay.

Carlos’s tensed muscles relax and he snorts. “Oh, I was just talking about how Jenkins is going to kill me on the field.”

“You’re right about that,” Jay laughs as he slides in next to Carlos. “I’m glad to see your appetite came back, I was beginning to get worried.”

Carlos looks from his own empty plate to Jay’s protein laden bowl of vegetables and grilled chicken. “Yeah, the test that was stressing me out finally happened. I feel way better,” he lies.

“Dude, there’s no way you _didn’t_ pass. You taught yourself Auradon’s curriculum and beyond _while_ living on the isle. Don’t stress out so much,” Jay says matter-of-factly, and Carlos can’t help but laugh.

Jay grins and Carlos finds himself sliding closer to his boyfriend. He really has been disassociating from his friends, _especially_ his boyfriend. For once he actually feels like himself, and he plans to savor this time.

“Thanks for that,” Carlos says as he plunges his fork into Jay’s impeccably made salad. Jay scoffs at him and pushes his tray away from Carlos jokingly.

“If you’re hungry,” Jay points his own fork accusingly at Carlos. “Go get more food.”

“I’m pretty full. Besides, I’d rather sit here and watch you eat.” Carlos places his chin on his fist and bats his eyelashes. Jay manages to hold onto his poker-face for a few seconds before he cracks into a grin.

“Gods, you’re such a nerd,” Jay affectionately tells him.

“Yes, but I’m _your_ nerd.”

Jay leans over and kisses Carlos’s forehead. “You got that right.”

***

Maybe these are all signs that he should just avoid the bathroom entirely. His foot connects with the wooden door and he flinches. Carlos _knows_ he heard her laugh, and he just can’t deal with that right now. He’s tired of Cruella’s presence and the impact it’s having on him. For weeks, he’s been shying away from Jay, from his social life, from everything. It infuriates him that she has so much control over his emotions without even being present.

The lull of the dripping water relaxes Carlos. He turns his full attention on the bathtub and considers soaking in it. Hell, maybe that’s all he needs. Something catches his attention at the bottom of the tub. It looks like a drop of ink, and he leans in to inspect it. The wall is slick, but Carlos is holding onto it like an anchor. Or, he thinks he is. He remembers having a solid grasp of the wall, yet somehow, he still finds himself falling.

Falling.

And falling.

The black smudge expands, surrounding him. A scream bubbles up in his throat, but no noise comes out. He can, however, hear something. Scratching? Crying? He’s unsure. A cold surface connects with his back and he shivers.

“Carlos,” _she says._ “Pay attention.”

No, _he thinks, wishing he could speak through the brick that seems to be lodged in his throat._ You’re not real, _he tells himself._

 _“_ Oh, sweetie, I’m as real as you are.”

_It’s like a slap to the face. She can hear his thoughts?_

“Of course. Now, pay attention,” _she repeats. So he does._

“It’s time. Return to the isle. I need you, Carlos. All the years I’ve spent grooming you to take over my legacy have culminated. I need you back.”

_Take over? Carlos squints, catching a glimpse of movement within the darkness. The temptation of stepping into it is overwhelming. He takes a deep breath and steps forward. She can’t control him anymore._

“That’s where you’re wrong.” _He doesn’t hear her voice anymore. She’s transforming into something terrible. The guttural sounds that rip through her cause Carlos to take a step back. A speck of light breaks through the darkness, and he anchors himself to it. The speck seems to slowly expand, and he freezes for a moment. Nothing happens. With baited breath, he continues to move towards the light. He leans over, aligning his eye with the pinpoint of light. Somehow, he manages not to scream._

 _Instead of the perfectly ironed clothing and elegant style, Cruella is in horrid shape. Her clothes are in shambles and her hair looks as though she just spent an hour in an electric chair. It’s just_ wrong. _Mud coats her legs and hands, and her smile is grotesquely twisted. Her smiles is what truly unnerves him._

 _“_ Mother?” _he manages, finally finding his voice._

_Cruella’s eyes snap open and light floods his senses. He tries to take another step back, but his feet are cemented in place. His heart is pounding too loudly in his own ears and he cries out at the exact moment that Cruella leans forward. Her fingers are talon-like, and they brush over his neck in a terrible mockery of affection. The light shatters around him, and Carlos only has a split second to think “oh, hell” before his head connects with the edge of the tub._

***

Carlos isn’t sure what to expect when he finally opens his eyes. He’s sprawled out on the bathroom floor, a small pool of blood gluing his cheek to the tiles.

“Jesus,” Carlos mutters as he pulls himself into a standing position. His vision blurs for a moment, like a service error on a television, before becoming painfully sharp. He begins wiping at the dried blood on the side of his head. It’s a small cut; nothing that peroxide won’t fix. He’s sure the redness and irritation will calm itself in an hour or so. He makes quick work of wiping up the blood and takes a deep breath. Maybe he _does_ need help. It definitely would be less stressful if someone else knows what’s up, but he’s not sure who he’s comfortable telling. Of course, his first instinct is Jay. Always Jay.

But that other part of him, the part that hates burdening his friends, is telling him to suck it up. He needs time to think. He picks up his phone and leaves the room. Jay is at practice, Evie is in the studio, and Mal had some royal duty to take care of. One place in particular comes to mind, and Carlos makes his way to the classroom.

He spots Fairy Godmother, or FG as they call her, standing behind a podium. She’s leaning over an ancient book, eyebrows drawn together in frustration. Carlos taps his knuckles on the oak doorway, trying not to startle her.

She glances up at him, looks back down, and snaps her head back up in a dramatic double take. “Well, what on earth happened to you?” Her eyesight is locked onto his temple. He can’t help the sigh.

“I’m a klutz,” he lies easily.

If she has any doubts, she doesn’t voice them. Thank the Gods for that.

“Hey, just out of curiosity, do you have anything that could put a stop to dreams?” Carlos asks. Maybe, if he doesn’t dream, he can get a good night’s rest and everything will magically resolve itself. He thinks, hopes.

“You know we don’t condone the use of magic,” she states matter-of-factly.

“Of course I know that, but this is, uh, an _emergency._ ” He drops his voice to a whisper and leans closer to her. “I’m having nightmares about mo—Cruella.” Her name sends a rush of terror through him, but he shakes it off.

“Oh. Oh, dear,” FG says. She fans her now blotchy face in that charming old-style fashion. “I _suppose_ I could make an exception and procure something for you. I’m certain Ben will understand and let it slide, but you mustn’t tell anyone!”

His shoulders sag in relief, or exhaustion. He’s not sure. “Of course, your secret is safe with me.” Carlos mimes locking his lips and throwing away the key like the nerd he is. It startles him when her cold hand rests on his cheek.

“You’re burning!”

“A little, yeah,” Carlos says. He does feel much warmer than normal.

“Come see me in an hour, I’ll have something ready for you.”

Carlos nods, thanking her multiple times before finally exiting. As he walks back to his room, he’s overcome with immense feelings of longing for his boyfriend. Gods, he misses Jay _so much._ Is it an unhealthy dependency? Maybe. Does he care? Absolutely not. It feels like he’s being _pulled_ back to the room, even though he’s not sure Jay is in there. He throws open the door and doesn’t attempt to restrain himself from tackling the other boy in the room. They hit the bed, the sound of Jay’s laughter instantly lightening Carlos’s mood. Jay’s arms secure themselves around Carlos’s hips.

“Are you getting skinnier? You need to eat more,” Jay huffs into his shoulder.

“Aye-aye, captain,” Carlos teases. “I missed you today.”

Jay has a shit-eating grin on his face. “Just today?”

Carlos scoffs at him as he leans up to straddle Jay’s hips with his thighs. “Don’t get cocky.”

“Part of my nature, babe,” Jay teases.

Carlos wads up Jay’s shirt and hefts him up until their lips meet. He cannot mentally comprehend just how much he needs this physical contact.

Jay pulls away, placing a gentle hand to Carlos’s temple. “Hey, what happened?”

Somehow, Carlos totally forgets about the soreness of his head. “Oh, yeah. Had an accident in the shower,” he admits. He focuses on the singular freckle near Jay’s clavicle in order to avoid eye contact.

“Are you okay?” Jay’s voice is nothing but raw concern, and it makes Carlos’s heart ache. As much as he hates worrying his friends, it feels so damn nice knowing someone cares about him.

“I’m fine, much better now that you’re here.”

Jay blushes and Carlos just stops. If he could pause the world right now, he would. Jay is so easy to admire. Aside from the carved cheekbones and symmetry of his face, Jay has a naturally compelling aura. Carlos takes it all in greedily, from the red cheeks to the half-closed eyes.

“What are you staring at?” Jay asks, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice.

Carlos winks at him. “Your beauty.”

“Alright, there’s only so much sappiness I can take in one day, and you’ve filled the threshold, unfortunately.”

Carlos simply laughs and leans into Jay’s neck. “Wanna make out, then?”

“You know me so well.”

At 10 PM, Carlos finds himself in the bathroom, once again. This time, he’s holding a vial of milky white liquid that FG “discreetly” slipped him. He just hopes it knocks him out completely. He pops it open and knocks it back quickly, trying to overcome the odd taste. It’s a mixture of lavender, mint, and something spicy that he can’t quite make out. It coats his tongue and he sighs. He stashes the vial and makes his way back to the beds. Jay is already out for the night. Make out sessions always put him to sleep. Carlos ever-so-quietly slips in next to him, easily lining his back up with Jay’s bare chest. Within seconds, the weight of his eyelids becomes too much for him, and he succumbs to a sweet, dreamless sleep.

Morning arrives faster than Carlos likes, the creaky door hinges rousing them from their sleep. Jay and Carlos slowly sit up in the bed. They come face to face with Evie, and the smell of fresh bread washes over them.

“I could kiss you right now,” Jay says what Carlos is thinking. He loves him some Evie.

“Hm, think I’ll pass you up on that offer,” Evie responds dryly. “I love you boys, but I could never come between you two.” She sets the warm box of croissants on Carlos’s lap. His mouth waters and he tears into the soft pastry like an animal.

“Glad to see you’re eating again,” Evie points out. “I was beginning to worry that we’d have to redo your sizes.”

Carlos rolls his eyes at her overt dramatics, but he really does appreciate their concern. “I just wasn’t feeling well last week.”

“And the week before that? And the week before that we—”

“Yikes, okay. I get it!” Carlos throws a pillow at her and she swats it away.

Evie sits on the opposite end of the bed and crosses her legs; her expression turns serious. “So, what are the plans for today?”

Jay looks at Carlos and Carlos just shrugs because, honestly, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. Carlos is more focused on the fact that he got a solid night of sleep. It feels like rising from the grave. “Not really sure, E. Did you have anything in mind?”

“Actually, yes. I was thinking we should all go to the library and get some work done on our final projects.”

Jay groans next to him and Carlos laughs. Of course, Evie is already making plans for a project months away. “Sure, why not? Jay definitely needs the extra study time.”

Carlos is pushed down by Jay as he gives an indignant screech. “Rude!”

“It’s only out of love, darling,” Carlos teases.

“Well, anyway, once you two are done having your little lovers’ quarrel, feel free to meet me at the library,” Evie says as she picks herself up and makes to leave the room.

“Yes ma’am,” Carlos salutes her. Now it’s Jay’s turn to roll his eyes and release Carlos from the headlock he has him in.

“Guess that means we have to put on actual clothes,” Carlos informs him. Jay groans again, but with more spirit.

After thirty minutes of arguing about who the shirt Carlos is wearing belongs to, they arrive at the library and find Evie nestled in one of the corner tables. She’s surrounded by books, fabrics, and coffee.

“Where’s Mal?” Jay glances around the near empty library. No purple hair in sight. Evie shrugs nonchalantly.

“Royal duty, or something. Said she’d be back later. Now sit down, shut up, and start studying,” she barks. Jay sits down and picks up a book about advanced architecture while Carlos wanders down the narrow shelves of books.

As he glances over the titles, he notices one book sticking out. It’s obviously old, indicated by the faded title and the years of water damage. Naturally, it grabs his full attention. He slips it off the shelf and gently opens the leather cover. As fate would have it, the book contains myths about the countless villains, stretching even past the isle. He elects to ignore the section about Cruella, instead skipping to Jafar. Carlos has always been interested in Jay’s background. Is this a little creepy? Yeah, probably. But he shrugs it off, skimming over the ancient text. As he flips to the next page, he catches the skin of his index finger. The paper-cut stings, and Carlos watches as a small drop of blood pools on his finger before falling onto the page.

“Shit,” he murmurs, trying to wipe it off to the best of his ability. The blood creates a pink hue on the creamy paper, and Carlos swears he can see a word rising through the stain. It’s so faint that Carlos is amazed he even sees it. He angles the book under the fluorescent lighting, letting out a small gasp as he finally sees the word.

_Home._

Call him paranoid, but Carlos is convinced that this is all some elaborate set up. Somebody is doing their best to freak him out. It’s a shitty prank, in his opinion. Too many coincidences, so it _has_ to be someone who knows just how to unnerve him. He can’t seem to focus on anyone in particular at the moment. For now, he tucks the book under his arm and makes his way back to the table. Evie looks at him, then at the book.

“Find anything interesting?”

Carlos gives a weak nod before sitting down. “Yeah, I’m just, uh, tired. So, I may head back early if that’s alright with you guys.”

“Sure,” Evie nods, always playing the role of the mom-friend. “Take a nap, maybe eat some chocolate. It’ll help.”

“Definitely,” he says, standing back up and pushing the seat beneath the table. Carlos leans over to place a kiss on Jay’s cheek, but meets his lips instead.

“Thought I’d let you leave with just a cheek kiss?” Jay says, his bottom lip protruding in his fake pouting face.

Carlos scoffs. “I’ll see you later, _Jayden.”_ As Carlos heads for the exit, he hears Evie snicker and Jay mumble something about full names.

What shakes Carlos up the most is how normal everything around him is. He’s in his own personal panic bubble, it seems. He needs to find out who has been setting everything up.

Mal is exactly where Carlos thought she would be. He doesn’t bother knocking before entering her room and throwing himself onto her bed. “I need your help.”

She sits up, removing her earbuds and giving Carlos a once-over quickly. “With what? You look like a ghost.”

He chokes out a laugh. If only she knew. “Is there a spell to find out who was the last owner of an object?”

Mal raises an eyebrow and hops up, padding across the room to access her book.

“Let me see,” she says as she flicks through the pages. After a few seconds, she makes an a-ha noise, bringing the book back to her bed. Carlos leans forward excitedly. “It says here that I can identify who the previous person was to touch the book. Is that what you’re asking?”

“Uh, won’t the spell tell you I’m the last one to touch it?” he asks, not trying to doubt her magic but also wondering if she thought it through beforehand.

She shakes her head and looks at the spell. “You’re the current owner of it, so whoever messed with it last is what we should find out.”

Carlos breathes a heavy sigh of relief. “Great, that’s what I need to know. I think someone has been trying to prank me, or something.”

“And you think this book will help you figure out who it is?” Her tone is skeptic, but Carlos just nods.

“Whoever had this last specifically wanted me to pick it up. It was pushed out on the shelf and essentially had a page marker on Jafar’s section.”

Mal blinks a few times, like an owl. “Sure it isn’t for Jay?”

“I think whoever is behind this knew I’d be more interested in Jafar than my mother.”

“Oh,” Mal says, at a loss for more words.

“Yeah,” Carlos sighs. “Which is why I’m asking you to do this. Is there anything we need for it?”

Mal stands up and positions herself in front of him, fingers tracing the words on the page as she sounds it out to herself. “All you need to do is keep your hands on the book. If you let go of it, you’ll mess up the spell.”

Carlos nods and clutches the book to his chest. Mal mutters the spell under her breath; her eyes squint in concentration and she points a slender finger at the book. He’s holding his breath and honestly the anticipation is driving him insane. Finally, he will be able to sleep at night once he knows who has been messing with him.

“Huh,” Mal says, looking stumped. He figures that can’t be a good sign.

“What?”

“I didn’t get a specific person,” she admits. “But I can tell you this much, the last person to touch that book wasn’t from Auradon.”

Carlos has to make an effort not to curl in on himself and cry right there. Somehow, though, this totally makes sense. Nobody in Auradon would be smart enough, or mean enough, to intentionally give him nightmares about his mother. Everyone in the kingdom knows how abusive their parents were to them on the isle. It just can’t make sense for someone to do that here.

“Well,” Carlos stands up, his knees shaking. “Thank you, anyway. Guess I’ll just try to figure things out on my own.”

Mal nods and gives him a sympathetic smile. “Let me know if I can help.”

“Thank you,” he tells her before ducking out of the room. Maybe he shouldn’t think so negatively of Mal. She does seem genuinely concerned for him. Perhaps he misjudged her, or they were all just too busy to notice each other struggling. Whatever it is, the situation just makes Carlos more tired than he already is.


End file.
